


Face Facts

by birbsandemidogs04



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: John and Harold adopt a bby, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-23
Updated: 2018-01-21
Packaged: 2019-02-19 05:57:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 8,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13117482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/birbsandemidogs04/pseuds/birbsandemidogs04
Summary: Unfortunate events concerning Leila's grandparents cause Leila to be under the care of Reese and Finch once again.**Discontinued work**





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! I just started writing this with no idea where it would go - honestly since I saw "Baby Blue" and the adorable dynamics John and Harold had with her, and by default, each other, I wanted Leila to come back and be raised by them again. Plus the series finale had me wrecked and shattered my soul, so... 
> 
> I reblog way too much stuff about Rinch on tumblr, so if y'all want to check my tumblr out I'm : mYsticaleggos
> 
> Thanks, happy reading and Merry Christmas!

"Oh, my," Harold regarded the dismal computer screen with interest, eyes wide. "We have two numbers at once - oh, dear." 

His tone twisted sadly as he added, "Samuel and Veda Cruz." 

John nodded slowly. "Claudia Cruz's parents." 

"And Leila's grandparents." finished Harold, completing the grim thought. 

Leila Smith was a six month old baby who had been their youngest person of interest a couple of months before. She had been looked after by John and Harold before being given to her overjoyed grandparents as her mother had since died and her father was a man of… high standards. Harold and John had trusted that the baby would remain safe for the rest of her life. Apparently, hopes never came to fruition. 

John moved closer to the computer, stealing a glance at the screen. "If they're in trouble, she probably is too." 

"No doubt," Harold agreed. "We need to take every measure possible to ensure their safety." 

John nodded. He had grown fond of the baby during the short time he and Harold had housed her, to the point where he would kill for her guaranteed safety. He was still willing to, if it was necessary. "Address?" 

"I'll send it to you," Harold told him, turning back to look at the screen. Sammy and Veda smiled back, their social security numbers blazing red. He hovered a hand over the keyboard and glanced at Bear as John stole out of the library. 

Bear whimpered. 

Harold whisked a hand along his back, smoothing the fur. He was sure it wasn't just to calm the dog.


	2. A Visit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's midnight where I live so I thought what better time to give you guys an early Christmas present! 
> 
> Forreal, I'm so glad you guys enjoy it and I love the positive feedback, so thank you for reading and I'll be sure to keep posting chapters. 
> 
> We'll see where these crazy characters take this story!

John knocked briskly on the door of the Cruz home - twice and then thrice fast. It was a sort of code - he exchanged it with all the persons of interest he had ever saved - and since Leila was too little, they were the ones who knew it. It would simply let them know that he was back, and they were safe. 

Sammy opened the door, wearing a weary smile that John knew from experience was just a mask. His face split into a grin when he laid eyes on the ex-op, however. 

"John! What brings you back here?" 

John was quiet as he swept into the house. Sammy followed after, his tone growing worried. "What is it? Is something going on with Leila again? I-is she in trouble?" 

John went right into the living room, where Veda was bent over a playpen in which Leila stood, a sparkle in her blue eyes. She cooed happily upon seeing John, and her little arms went up to him, causing Veda to turn and see him. "Oh! John! What a surprise!"

"Hi, Veda." John allowed himself to smile, and turned his attention to Leila. "Hi, Leila."

Leila cooed again, her arms still thrust upwards. John obliged; he lifted her out of her cot and into his arms. 

"Yes, she's missed you," Veda said fondly. "We all have." 

John shifted Leila to rest against his hip. "How has Leila been?" 

Sammy stole closer to John. "She's been a little angel. The best behaved we could have ever asked for. And we're thankful for it." 

"Yes, especially right now," added Veda. 

"What's right now?" inquired John, bouncing Leila lightly when she fussed. 

Veda sighed, offering a seat to John as she and Sammy sat on a couch across from him. John sat, his gaze steely. "Well, Sammy's workplace has been downsizing departments, and so many workers went on strike. But I guess whatever they're downsizing for is taboo or something of the sort, because all the workers who participated in the strikes were fired right away."

"And you were one of them," murmured John to Sammy. He cradled Leila's head in his hand, marveling at how soft and delicate her hair was. 

Sammy nodded solemnly. "Yeah. It was tough, and it still is - so we've got no choice but to sell this house. Hopefully we can get a good price and then move into a cheap apartment until we get back on our feet." 

Harold tuned in then. "I'm sure we could accommodate them, Mr. Reese. Consider it a generous donation." 

John turned to the couple. "Well, my boss is willing to help you out with whatever you need." 

Leila cooed happily, her chubby little arms waving about. 

"And you, too," John chuckled, tickling the baby under her chin.


	3. Digging for Suspects

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter... The boys consider their options

"This fails to explain why the Machine is still giving me their numbers,"   
Harold's brow furrowed in confusion. 

John loomed over him. "They seemed safe enough when I left them. And it was just a simple case of being let go - no motive or suspects." 

"There are always suspects, Mr. Reese. We just need to figure out why someone would want to hurt them, and how."

"Well, what about Leila's father? Could he have anything to do with anything?" John asked. Leila's father, Adnan, was well-to-do and wealthy, with a good reputation. However, it was his wife Nicola who had perpetrated the last crime on innocent Leila. 

Harold shrugged lightly. "It's very well that that's a possibility," he replied. "However, I'd consider it unlikely. Why would he desire further ruin of his reputation? His wife is already behind bars, and not to mention, his son is keeping a rather undesirable secret." 

"Just a thought." John offered. "But you're right. I saw him the first time again - he truly didn't consider his wife perpetrating the crime. I'm not sure he even knew he had a daughter. He was just confused." 

Harold pursed his lips. "Well, I suppose I can do some more digging. Meanwhile, Bear has been raring to go out. You should take him out for a walk. I'll call you with any results." 

John nodded and whistled for Bear to follow him out.


	4. Hot Dogs and Phone Calls

Midway through a brisk walk to the park, John ran into Lionel Fusco eating a hot dog. 

"Hey, Lionel," he said calmly as the chubby detective followed him, chewing angrily. "What have you been up to?" 

Fusco frowned. "Lookin' everywhere for you and Glasses," he replied bitterly. "There's been a double murder of two of Elias' guys. Did you do that?" 

John hid a smile. "Maybe, maybe not." 

"I knew it. You know, HR's been up my ass for that info? I should give you away to them." 

John stopped. "But you won't."

"No, I won't." Fusco resigned. He grinned then, throwing away the hot dog wrapper. "Just wanted to scare ya." 

John grunted and kept going. "You better watch yourself, Lionel. One day you might actually scare me and then I won't spare mercy." 

Fusco still trailed after him, undeterred. "What are you and Glasses up to today?" 

"I'm taking Bear for a walk," John obliged. "And Finch is doing that thing he does, at the computer."

"I'm serious, tough guy." 

"And so am I." John said firmly. "You're probably better staying away from us, Lionel. You're going to get hurt." 

Fusco made a skeptical noise that sounded similar to a wheeze. "Yeah, you bet your ass I'm stayin' out. You're not gettin' rid of me so easy." 

John was reminded of Joss' perseverance suddenly. He wished he could tell Lionel, but that would just be blowing it. Especially considering they were partners and neither knew the other was helping him and Harold. 

He was glad for the call from Harold.

"Did you find something, Finch?" he asked almost eagerly, pausing to let Bear relieve himself against a lamp post. 

"I'm afraid so - it's something rather interesting. I investigated Sammy Cruz's place of work more carefully. It appears that he was employed at an obscure IT department within a campus in New Jersey."

"So the pay should have been good, right?" 

"Not exactly. In fact, when I compared Mr. Cruz's salary to that of his co-workers, he earned almost half the amount that the others earn per year. And it seems to only have affected him."

John picked up the pace, pulling on Bear's lead to follow. "Do you think he knows?"

"I don't doubt it. It was ongoing for two months before he was fired - never before. He had worked there for a whole of fifteen years."

"So this has something to do with Claudia's death." John stated. 

"Most likely." Harold responded. "And another thing - Mr. Cruz was under the employment of a Mr. Trent Lloyd for three months before he was fired. I'm looking into him now. Once you get back here, I'll show you what we have available." 

John turned off his Bluetooth and turned to Lionel with an apologetic grin. "Duty calls." 

Lionel rolled his eyes. "Yeah, go on. Wouldn't want to keep the wife waiting."   
But he grinned. "Tell her I said hi."


	5. The Demon Boss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year guys!

John burst into the library ten minutes later. Untying Bear's lead, he called to Harold, "So? Have you found anything on Lloyd?" 

"So far? Not as much as I'd hoped." Harold admitted. He was staring at a picture of the man from a news article. "I've only found a few articles about him, yet none of them say good things, I'm afraid."

John walked over to see the monitor. "'Employees suffering under the demon boss.'" he read monotonously. "The demon boss?" 

Harold nodded. "That's what they call him. Apparently his way of managing his employees is something akin to fascism."

"How so?" 

"Well, according to the New York Times, one woman experienced a cut in her salary of forty percent when she went on maternity leave. Another was demanded by him to remove her hijab in the workplace and was not permitted to pray at all."

John winced. "So he's a racist, Islamophobic, fascist misogynist." 

"That's putting it lightly, but yes." Harold noted. "Along with this, he's extremely strict with strikes and cut Sammy's salary in half for no apparent reason." 

"I'll investigate him." John vowed. "You check on Leila and her grandparents, see they're safe."


	6. Rash Decisions

Veda Cruz opened the door when Harold knocked, a wailing Leila in her arms. Veda, herself, looked distraught. 

"Hello, Mrs. Cruz," Harold raised his voice over Leila's screaming. "Just checking in." 

"Oh, thank God you're here," Veda cried. "Sammy just left." 

\--

Harold bounced Leila in his arms, shooshing her at intervals while he attempted to console Veda. "What do you mean, he just left?" 

Veda buried her face in her hands. "Oh, I knew I should have told your husband when I had the chance. It's horrible, what we've done." 

Harold didn't even attempt to correct her. Every other time he'd tried to inform people that he and John were not a couple, it was brushed off. "Well, you can tell me now. We need to know in order to keep you safe." he said, lowering his voice as Leila began to calm. He stroked her hair soothingly as he continued, "Does it involve your having to sell the house?"

"Yes." Veda nodded, suddenly stoic. "We made a deal we should never have made." 

Harold remained silent to allow her to continue. 

"A couple of weeks ago, we found that we could not afford Leila's formula any more. It was just too much. We love Leila more than we love ourselves - she's a part of our Claudia, the last part of her we have."   
Her voice broke as she fought back the tears, prompting Harold to offer her a tissue from his pocket. She took it gratefully. 

"So losing Leila was not an option. We had to get more money, or we were going to truly have to let her go."

Veda wiped at her eyes. "We tried everything within the limited time we had. We tried to appeal to Sammy's boss, we went to several different banks… I even tried to go back to work. But nothing came to fruition."

"So you had no other option but to borrow money." Harold said. 

"We had no choice." agreed Veda. "Sammy knows this man who works selling medical marijuana, and so he allowed us to take as much as we needed as long as we paid it back at the end of the two weeks. It was foolish, how were we possibly going to pay it back? But we were desperate. We would do anything to keep our angel, and we still will. So we took the money." 

"And now they're demanding it back."

Veda nodded. 

"How much did you take?"

"200. Just enough to last Leila two weeks, we didn't care about ourselves." she responded. 

Harold paused. "I would like very much to help you. I can give you the 200$ by tomorrow, and then we'll sort the rest out. Alright?" 

"No," Veda shook her head. "This was our mistake, our mess. I can't let you help us. We have to clean this up, ourselves." 

"And I cannot allow you and your family to suffer, Mrs. Cruz." Harold said evenly. "Believe me, you will need our help."   
He looked at Leila and found that she'd fallen asleep in his arms.


	7. Trent Lloyd

John knocked thrice on Trent Lloyd's door. He concealed his handgun in the pocket of his trenchcoat, his trigger finger itching. 

The tall man from the articles answered, wearing a bathrobe and face adorned with freckles and glasses.

"Nice bathrobe, Trent." John grinned. 

Trent rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah. Look, I don't want to hear about the world ending, so beat it." 

"I'm not a Jehovah's witness."

"Well, then, who are you? And make it quick, I've got a meeting in an hour." 

"Can I come in?"  
John asked, before barreling straight through anyway. 

"Hey!" Trent snapped angrily, rushing after John. "You can't just burst into my house like that!" 

John brought a badge out of his pocket and showed it to the man. "Actually, I can. Detective Stills, NYPD." 

"Oh."  
Trent stepped back, his attitude changed as if by magic. "Well, what can I do for you, Detective?" 

"I'm going to have to ask you a few questions about an employee of yours."

\--

"What, Sammy? He's fine. Why do you ask?" 

John sat back on the sofa Trent had offered him. The picture of Sammy he had brought fell into his lap. "Well, from what I've heard, your employees have a lot of complaints about you being unjust, racist towards them."

Trent scoffed. "Please. Me, racist? I don't think they said that. I've never done anything remotely racist to those people."

In John's ear, Harold buzzed, "Show him the proof, Mr. Reese." 

"Oh, I'll be happy to." John obliged, and pulled out his phone. On the screen was an image from an article criticizing Trent from the perspective of his employees. "Are you aware what this is, Trent?"

Trent went an appropriate shade of white. 

\--

"Finch, Trent seems innocent," John claimed after stepping outside Trent Lloyd's home and tapping on his Bluetooth. "He might just be a racist."

"You're quite right, Mr. Reese -- I'm afraid we might have a bigger problem at hand." 

"What kind of bigger problem?" John asked, suspicious. 

"Sammy and Veda made a deal with the wrong kinds of people in their desperation to get a loan."

John picked up the pace. "I'll be right there."


	8. Fragility of Life

Harold turned when John entered the library, startled. "Mr. Reese, thank goodness. I was just with Veda - she informed me that Sammy had just left. I'd assume that means he had left to pay off the drug bosses with what little money they do have." 

John paused in taking off his coat. "Finch, we've gotta follow him. Who knows what they'll do when they find out Sammy and Veda don't have the money." 

Harold nodded briskly. "I'll go console Veda in the meantime." 

\--

Sammy was being quite literally backed into a corner when John arrived. 

By a group of angry, hoodie-wearing thugs with guns. John made eye-contact with Sammy, nodded silently, and advanced behind the thugs, his own gun drawn. 

He quickly took out the thug closest to him, drawing the others away from Sammy and to him. It would be easy incapacitating the rest, John imagined, and so he almost had fun taking them out. 

In no time, John had them all unconscious. He turned, a triumphant smile on his face as he searched for Sammy. 

"Sammy!"

Thinking he had simply run off to hide, John walked over the vicinity and stepped on something, from which emanated a crunch. He looked down. 

There were Sammy's glasses. 

A few feet from them was Sammy himself, unmoving on the ground. 

Dead.


	9. Orphaned Again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry guys. It was hard to write this, believe me.

Harold knocked frantically on the door to the Cruz house. Normally Veda would respond quickly, but she wasn't answering now. 

"Hello? Mrs Cruz?" he called.

It was then that he heard a faint noise - pressing his ear to the door, he could hear it better - a whining or crying noise. 

He jolted. "Leila."

With a new determination, Harold flung open the door, surprised to find that it was unlocked but not at all appeased. 

Right in the middle of the entranceway lay Veda Cruz's body, sticky in a pool of her own blood. The noise Harold had heard was Leila, who was screaming for attention or perhaps fear. 

Harold turned white, hobbling over to Leila's playpen and lifting her out with soothing pats to her back and a kiss to her forehead. "Shhh, it's okay. It's alright, sweetheart. I'm here. You're alright." he murmured to the baby, rocking her in his arms. He stroked her hair and began gently to bounce her. 

"Finch?" John's voice came depressed on the other end. "Are you there?" 

"I'm fine, Mr. Reese. Are you alright?" he said softly. 

"I'm okay, but I'm afraid Sammy isn't." sighed John.  
"He was killed by the druggies." 

Harold's eyes widened in concern. "Oh, dear. I have some rather distressing news as well - Veda is dead also. I'm here at their house with Leila. Who knows how long the poor baby was crying here before I came." 

John paused for a moment, then sighed heavily. "So Leila really is an orphan." he said, his voice choking. 

"I'm afraid so, Mr. Reese." Harold replied, kissing the baby atop her head. 

"What are we going to do now?" John asked after another pause. 

Harold looked at the baby, whose crying had died into fussing. Her blue eyes stared back at him - the tear tracks down her chubby cheeks wrenched at his heart and he felt the urge to brush the liquid away. 

"I'm not sure, Mr. Reese." he replied softly. 

"I'll meet you at the library, then?" 

"Alright. I'll bring Leila." Harold agreed. He shifted the baby to his good hip and enunciated, "You're safe now, sweetheart. You're going to come and see the library, how does that sound?" 

Leila cooed and grabbed onto his nose. It made him chuckle despite his uneasiness. 

In leaving, he glanced at Veda Cruz one last time, thinking with sadness about how she must have fought to protect the baby, which was perhaps part of the reason that Leila was only crying and not dead next to her grandmother. Harold felt an admiration for Veda as he placed Leila gently in a box he had brought in the passenger seat, and stroked the baby's hair gently before sitting in his own seat. "Let's go, Leila." he said, firmly gripping the wheel before taking off.


	10. We'll See

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sickly sweet fluff :)

Bear bolted to the door once he heard it open, and sat waiting eagerly to see his other owner. 

"Bear, auf." John called lazily from the desk. 

Harold appeared on the other side, cradling Leila in a blanket in his arms. He looked distraught, and more tired than John had ever seen him. Instinctively John rushed forward to take the baby from him. 

"Are you alright?" he asked, checking the baby over.

"Yes. Thank God Leila is too. I believe I arrived just after Veda was killed."   
There was a hint of remorse in his voice that John could only guess was survivor's guilt. He knew the feeling all too well.   
"Detective Fusco is headed to the scene as we speak." 

John glanced down at the bundle, which was wriggling now. Leila's face peeked out at him from the opening, her cheeks stained pink with life and eyes shining with curiosity. 

"Hi, Leila." he said gently. His fingers stroked her hair back from her face as if he were afraid to break her. "You're going to be staying here with us for a little while, okay?" 

Leila giggled, her hands grabbing clumsily at the air in her search for his face, chubby arms finding their hold on his nose. 

Despite the angst and guilt John felt, the innocence with which Leila was looking at him made him smile. He glanced over at Harold and saw the other man watching him in earnest. It sent a buzz through him that he had to ignore.

\-- 

John woke up the next morning sprawled on the couch, Leila in his arms. The sweet baby girl's tiny hands were in fists, and she faced away from him as if she had pivoted in his grasp. Her chest rose and fell fitfully, indicating that she was still asleep but it hadn't been an easy road to get there. John threw an arm over the edge of the couch and felt Bear's cold wet nose sniffing. 

From what he remembered, Bear had loved Leila the minute he saw her. Memories of the last night resurfaced - the Belgian Malinois, usually so stoic and violent or tough, had licked the baby's face several times, encouraged when she giggled and reached out to clutch his nose. John smiled fondly thinking on it, and instinctively kissed Leila's hair, triggering her to wake and shift restlessly in his arms until she opened her big blue eyes to stare at him. 

"Hi, baby," John murmured, smiling. "How did you sleep?"

Leila, of course, didn't respond, but John knew what she would say if she could say it. "I didn't get much sleep either," he sympathized. "I guess we've got more in common than we think." 

Leila smiled at him, gurgling gently. 

"You want breakfast then?" John asked. "I've got a nice warm bottle with your name on it." 

\--

When John stepped into the main area of the library, he wasn't surprised to see Harold at the computer. 

"Good morning, Mr. Reese," 

"Morning, Finch." John responded. "Listen, the baby's hungry." 

Harold turned from the keys, a look of cautious determination on his face. "Say no more. I prepared several bottles of formula on the dresser, all you have to do is warm them up." 

John smirked. "Nice job. It's almost like you expected us to suddenly take in a child again." 

"Well,"   
Harold rolled his eyes. "We must always be prepared."

John tried to ignore the connotation with that - it meant he had missed the baby way too much and had kept her formula as a reminder of her. He'd be lying if he said Harold wasn't just as fond of Leila as he was. 

He shifted Leila to the opposite hip and let her hold out her arms for Harold, who took her from him, cooing at her in a way he had only ever heard him coo once. 

"Hello, sweetheart," Harold went on, "Are you hungry? Do you want some milk?" 

John chuckled as he turned to ready her bottle. 

\--

Leila was set on the floor in her little playpen as she drank from her milk. John and Harold had discovered that in the time she was with her grandparents, she had learned to hold the bottle herself, and now was drinking and staring at her surrogate parents, surprisingly calm as Bear sniffed her again. 

Harold was on the computer, investigating Leila's extended family to see if anyone would take her. "So, apart from her father Adnan, we have Claudia's brother, Derek."

"What's his deal?" asked John. 

"He's a thirty-year-old police officer who works interchangeably in Mexico and Las Vegas. Hmm." Harold frowned. "It seems as if he travels quite a bit." 

"Not the ideal parent." 

Harold sighed. "No, indeed."   
He looked over at Leila. "What are we going to do?" 

The idea to keep Leila had been a recurring thought in John's head ever since he'd first gotten out of that freezer truck. When he'd said having children would be nice, he'd meant it. "We could keep her." he said nonchalantly. 

John didn't expect Harold to be on board with it right away. And he certainly wasn't. "Are you serious? Us? Raise a child?" 

"Why not?" John murmured, and inclined his head toward the baby, who had now caught hold of Bear's snout and was pulling him down to her level. "She's adorable."

"I know she is, Mr. Reese," hissed Finch. "But even if we were qualified to care for a child, our line of work doesn't exactly permit us to do it easily."

John eyed Harold carefully, with a soft gaze he often employed when looking at the other man. "She's got no one." he told him finally. "If we give her to some orphanage, she'll get kidnapped again, or worse." 

Harold merely glanced down at his keyboard. "Let me look through the rest of her relatives and see if I can find someone reliable." he said by way of reassurance. This, John figured, meant "we'll see".


	11. Tentative Firsts

The possessiveness took no time to grow. 

After a day of fruitless search for someone to take Leila in, John felt closer to the baby than ever before. They had little numbers that day, so he took her in the baby sling to the park while Harold sat at the computer and looked. To Harold's credit, John thought, he was doing what was best for Leila, but John's own school of thought was mindlessly selfish. 

He had already begun to think of her as his own. He would love to get to keep her - she wasn't just a quiet baby, she was also one of the best recon officers he had ever worked with. Her eyes scanned everything, wide and curious, and she silently paid attention to everything around her. 

John bent over to kiss her head. "A natural, just like she was last time." he murmured into her soft baby hair, and marveled when she giggled and butted her head into his chin. It was little wonders that John loved the most. These moments, and also whenever he could get Harold to smile or make any sort of intimate gesture other than the occasional brush against his - well, that was something to be marveled, anyway. 

He tapped his Bluetooth lightly. "Finch, you got anything?" 

Harold's voice was strained on the other line. "No," he replied. "I'm afraid I haven't. Claudia has no siblings besides Derek, and all her cousins are dead, abroad, or too old to take care of a little one." 

John looked down at Leila. 

"But we still cannot keep her." Harold finished grimly. "We should be the last resort." 

"Alright," John agreed wistfully. "So who's next?" 

Harold paused. "Shall we see if Adnan would like to have her?" 

John rolled his eyes skeptically. "I don't think he would like that, Finch. It would sort of ruin his already-failing reputation."

Leila cooed as if she knew what they were talking about. 

"Yeah, exactly, Leila." John encouraged, chuckling. "You know your daddy's a coward, don't you?" 

The baby seemed to nod as she shifted in the baby sling. John kissed her head again with a smile. "Finch, this kid is a genius. She would be an asset to the team." he announced. 

Harold said nothing. 

"Plus, we have Bear to take care of her when we're not here - but odds are, you'll be here most of the time -" 

"We'd have to regularly buy her formula, diapers, clothes, toys..." Harold started. 

John nodded, knowing he was compromising now. "We did it before, didn't we?" 

"And we would have to keep up a pretty regular cover when together with the baby." 

John paused. "What, you mean like -" 

"When we go out with Bear, we don't attract that much attention. However, a baby is an overt symbol of the love between two people. We could not navigate around New York with a baby together and slip under the radar. It would cause us grief and make it easy to find us."

"So you're saying we go undercover as a - a couple?" 

"Yes. I think that would be best if we were to keep Leila, for whatever duration we need to before she goes to a relative." Harold finished. 

There was an odd ringing in John's ears at the prospect of being Harold's significant other, even just as part of a cover. He found himself grinning, glad Harold could not see him save for from a computer screen. "We could make that work." he answered, which meant a wholehearted, "Yes!"


	12. Parenthood and Second Appearances

"So what are our names?" 

Harold glanced up from his computer screen, away from the covers he was preparing. "Harold Swan and John Reaume. You would be an accountant at the firm I've established, and I will be a conglomerate."

"Basically what you are now," John commented. 

Harold's lip curled. "I suppose."   
He turned back to the screen. "Leila will have to be renamed in any case - what do you propose?" 

John shrugged. "I kind of like 'Leila'. I can't think of anything better. And why do I have to be an accountant? Can't I be a stay-at-home dad?" 

"Because we need an excuse to go out," Harold stated, gesturing at the screen. "But I suppose an accountant wouldn't be an ideal job for you if you're going to be protecting our numbers."

"I wouldn't blow my cover if I was staying at home," John said enticingly.

Harold regarded him over his glasses for a moment before sighing. "Yes, I suppose you'd be better here. With Leila."

"Yeah, we'll bring her with us to fancy events and stuff. Just like Bear."

"Bear is a 'service dog'." Harold pointed out. "Leila is an infant." 

"But she's our infant." John replied evenly.

A sudden squeaking noise from Leila's playpen caused both men to turn around. Leila was chewing on one of Bear's toys, an innocent grin on her face.   
Harold rushed over and picked her up, taking the well-loved toy out of her mouth. "Oh, no, no - that's not for you," he fussed, "I'll buy you your own toys." 

John smirked. "And thus starts parenthood." 

\--

Strolling about the nearby convenience store with a trolley brought back memories of when Harold had first gone shopping for Leila's things just two months before. Only this time, John and Leila were both with him instead of Carter. 

John wore the baby sling and kept up his act by pointing out different things on the shelves for Leila to see, whispering in a marveled voice his contagious excitement. If Harold were a different man, he'd consider it somewhat cute. 

Instead he nudged over to the diapers and picked up a couple of packets, shoving them into his trolley.   
"Mr. Reaume, if you wouldn't mind -"   
He gestured to the baby bottles along the shelf next to John. 

John obliged, handing them to him. "Shouldn't you just call me 'John'? Isn't that what married people do?" 

Harold felt a flare of emotion from deep in his heart. He attributed it to the fact that he was still mourning the loss of his first marriage to Grace. "Alright, John - can you please keep an eye out for pacifiers?"

John grinned, shifting Leila in his arms. "I can, Harold." 

\--

Just over an hour later, the two men had picked up almost all they would need for the baby. "We still need to pick up a crib for her," Harold noted, pushing the diapers across to the cashier while John stood behind him. "She can't keep sleeping on the couch." 

He hadn't really noticed the lady at the cash register, or recognized her, for that matter, until she cooed at the baby and John started to talk to her. 

"Oh, what a cute baby!" she squealed as she processed their items. 

Harold looked over at her warily, and instantly remembered that she'd been the cashier the day he'd come in with Joss. At the same time, she narrowed her eyes in recognition of him. 

"Wait - I've seen you before!" she recalled. Silently Harold prayed she didn't remark upon the anomaly that was him and his time in the store. "You're her father?" 

Harold nodded. "Yes."

The girl's face underwent a transformation from confusion to awareness. "Ohhh! Well, you guys make such a beautiful family."

"Thank you," John replied, glancing at Harold as the girl bagged their things. 

"Yeah, I'm really glad you guys are getting the equal treatment you deserve," continued the girl unnecessarily. "I have two fabulous uncles and they have the most loving relationship I have ever seen - it really broke my heart when they weren't allowed to get married." 

John and Harold nodded uncomfortably. Leila cooed, reaching out to catch a bag between her chubby fingers. The cashier, seeing this, smiled sweetly and handed the baby a small bag. "Here you are, honey." 

To Harold and John she said, "Have a nice day!" 

Harold was happy when John rapidly collected their bags - he seemed to be in the same frame of mind. 

"Wow," John sighed as they made their way to the car. "Is this how gays are always treated?" 

Harold glanced warily over his shoulder at the storefront. "Seems like it. Instead of deflecting attention, we're drawing it." 

\--

Their next stop was the local giant - Babies R Us - to get Leila's more technical needs such as her crib and a proper changing table. 

John seemed to be all too willing to show off the baby to the other couples, as if he was a proud parent. Harold disagreed with this way of going about shopping, though he kept quiet and navigated along behind his "significant other" so as to duck as far under the radar as possible. 

The cribs weren't far from the store's entrance - Harold limped quickly toward them, drawing John close. He surveyed one that was made of dark brown oak. "Hmm, what are your thoughts on this one, Mr. Re -- John?"

John glanced down at the price. "Harold, it's thirty thousand dollars." 

"And?" 

John smirked. "Oh, yeah - I keep forgetting we can afford it, not like regular first-time couples." 

Harold ducked to look around the whole crib and check it for tarnishes, splinters, cracks, marks and dents in the wood. He murmured as an afterthought, "Speaking of other couples, we will need to infiltrate one or two." 

"Infiltrate? You mean 'befriend'?"

"Yes, that's the word," 

John exchanged a look of puzzlement with Leila, who stared back at him with curious eyes. "Why would we have to do that?" he asked. 

"So as to seem normal." replied Harold, as if it were the simplest thing in the world. "We need to completely throw ourselves into acting like married parents to an eight-month-old."

"So we need Intel."   
John nodded. "Yeah, that's a good idea."   
He ran a hand over the crib, rubbing his fingers over the smooth wood. "Well, I think our second thing as parents should be to buy this crib." 

"I agree," Harold said, and the corner of his lips turned up in an imperceptible smile. "Now, let's find a changing table." 

\--

That evening, John decided to take a walk. 

John, grabbing Bear's lead, had almost stepped outside of the door without thinking about Harold and the baby, taking for granted that he could leave them at home and they would be fine with the computer. He was sure that was true, but he didn't consider asking Harold if he wanted to go too. 

He came back inside rapidly, bracing his arms on the back of Harold's chair. "Would you like to accompany me to the park?" he asked in a whisper. 

Harold turned slightly to indicate his agreement with the idea. "I think that would be nice." he agreed. Both men looked over at Leila. 

She was standing quietly in her baby-mover toy, the wheels on standby as she looked up at Harold and John. John had spent an hour or two building it, and had finally built up appreciation enough for parents from an outside perspective. "What do you say, Leila?" he asked in a baby voice, approaching her slowly. "Do you want to make your second public appearance?"


	13. Advice...?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I honestly don't know if the story will continue the way I want it to. I am very occupied and so I don't know if any more chapters will come freely to my head. I have quite a few more that I will post. Thanks in advance and thank you so much for reading :)

As John had expected, they got even more attention from people the second time. He suspected that it was because of the combined presence of Bear and Leila. Indeed, people were first drawn to Leila in John's baby sling, and then Bear at Harold's side. It was in those few seconds looking from Leila to Bear that people began to register the two men, John suspected. 

One older lady came up to them when they were almost all the way down the pathway along the river. "Oh, what a precious child," she observed in a voice John could only describe as friendly. It wasn't over-the-top ensnared by the cuteness, as most people had been, and made both Harold and John feel automatically at ease. 

John flashed the lady a signature grin. "Thanks. I'd say she looks more like me."

Harold frowned and smacked him on the arm, something John felt wasn't entirely part of their cover. "For goodness' sakes," he muttered as the ex-op rubbed his affected extremity. He turned to the lady and smiled apologetically. "Forgive him, he gets ahead of himself quite often."

The woman laughed, a low, kind laugh that matched her deep, kind eyes. "It's alright," she obliged, a twinkle in those kind eyes. "I'm sure she looks a bit like both of you, and she'll grow to have good qualities from you both anyway. I remember when I was a little bit younger, and I had my first. I worried for so long about how she would turn out - I didn't want her too much like me, you see, or we would fight all the time. I'm dreadfully stubborn, you know."  
At that, she chuckled. 

Harold smiled. "Did she turn out to be like you?" 

"Only in looks, honey," the lady said, raising her eyebrows suggestively. "She's the prettiest thing, but luckily, she is exactly like her father in personality. So yours will probably grow up to look like one of you, but be like the other." 

John nodded, and Bear barked softly as if to add his input, causing the lady to come around and pet him behind his ears. After a moment she stood back from them, her eyes crinkled in a smile. 

"What a beautiful family you have," she said haltingly. "God bless you all." 

Both men watched her as she walked off to the grass on the side of the pathway. 

"She was nice," John remarked, bouncing gently when Leila fussed. 

"Yes. Remarkably so." replied Harold plainly. "It was quite refreshing to encounter someone like her after all the others." 

They moved on down the path. 

\--

The next week, there was an article in the newspaper about them. 

Harold was feeding Leila when he saw it on his computer. "Oh, my. Already?" 

John was at his shoulder in a second. "What? Oh. Wow, they've figured it out." 

The title of the article was, "An Odd Family". Underneath was a low quality picture of John and Harold with Leila in the baby sling on John's chest and Bear at Harold's side attached to his lead. 

"Evidently this was taken on the night we went to the riverside." Harold concluded. "It is quite a nice picture." 

"Yeah, but look what they're saying about us." John pointed out. "'We've cracked the mystery'? 'Harold Swan, wealthy conglomerate, is gay'? 'He was spotted earlier last week strolling around town with another man, an adorable baby girl, and a dog. And might we add that this man is quite a piece of eye candy'."   
John grinned. "Well, they got that right." 

Harold frowned. "Yes, and we are fortunate that the quality of the photo is so bad. If anyone were to recognize us from this, I fear the repercussions would be severe." 

"Well, they're still trying to figure out who your new mystery man is, so I think we're okay." John commented calmly. "Here, let me take Leila." 

Harold handed John the baby, turning with concern back to the screen. "We need to limit our public appearances then."


	14. Dinners and Screw Fusco's Diet

After that night's number was saved, John ran into Lionel Fusco yet again. Unsurprisingly, Lionel was perched on a bench smack in the middle of Central Park, indulging in one of his bad habits. 

"Hot dogs after midnight, Lionel?" John called teasingly as he sat next to the dowdy cop. "You're ruining your diet." 

Lionel scrunched his face into a signature frown. "Screw my diet." he muttered. "This is one of my only sources of normalcy in the middle of you guys always askin' for my help." 

John shrugged helplessly. "Sorry."

"Yech," Lionel scoffed, taking a big bite of the hot dog. John could vaguely smell the sauerkraut. "So what's this I hear from the papers? You and Glasses had a private ceremony or somethin'? I mean, I always suspected something, but this -" 

"It's a new cover." John obliged, spreading his hands. "There's nothing going on, we just needed to hide the baby and we adopted her. Media took that and ran with it." 

"Baby?" Lionel demanded. "What baby? This the kid who got kidnapped by Glasses? She in danger again?" 

John nodded. "She wasn't in danger, but her grandparents were. We tried our best to stop whoever was after them, but they got to them before we could do anything. So we took in Leila and had to adapt a cover story for it." 

Lionel belched. "Well, I'm not sayin' I'd trust you with a baby, but I guess you're the only option so… have fun changin' diapers for the next three years." 

"Thanks." John replied. "See ya round, Lionel." 

With a fake salute, Lionel rose off the bench and walked away, leaving John alone with his thoughts. 

John had never been too good at thinking. Usually everything he did was in the moment, fleeting and rare were his thoughts. He supposed this was because he didn't want to trigger anything unpleasant hanging around in his brain. He had a whole file folder of stuff from his relationship with Jessica. He couldn't access that again or he'd surely kill himself, and he couldn't do that. 

He was a parent now. 

Leila needed him and Harold needed him. Not just for the numbers now. 

It was an odd sensation, thinking that Harold needed him, genuinely needed John for something other than this job. He had never even considered that Harold might mourn his death one day. That was how far away he held him. 

An imperceptible smile flitted across John's face, and he rose off the bench to go home. 

\--

"Hey, Finch - what about a dinner out?" 

Harold turned in his chair to regard John. "With Leila?" he asked. Leila sat on his knee, coming up just high enough to see the bottom of the computer screen. Her big blue eyes peered at it with curiosity. 

John shrugged. "Why not? Or we could order in from that Chinese place you like. Whichever. Just thought we could use a break." 

"I suppose we could venture out," considered Harold. "I don't see the harm in it." 

"If we see a cop that's not Fusco or Carter, we run. Simple." 

Harold smirked. "Alright." 

… 

They ended up going to their favourite Chinese place, from which they would usually order and stay home. The owner had never seen Harold before in his life. 

"Hello," he greeted them cheerfully when they came in, Leila strapped in to Harold's chest. "Table for two?"

"With a high chair," John added. "If you don't mind." 

Harold didn't know it, but John concealed his revolver in his pocket and was fingering it as he challenged the owner. 

"Uh, yes. No problem." agreed the owner, pausing but still obliging the customers. If Harold felt apprehension, he said nothing as they took their seats and the owner ran to fetch a high chair. 

John didn't hesitate in opening the menu before him and humming at the items. "They really need to vary it up in here," he murmured humourously. "I think I'm getting sick of seeing the same appetizers over and over again. Don't they have a daily special or something at least?" 

Harold shifted slightly, taking Leila out of the baby sling to sit on his good leg. "Well, I'm sure I'm going to order the calamari first." he replied. "Then we'll see about the vermicelli." 

Subsequently, the owner arrived, sagging around the weight of a plastic high chair. Harold raised an eyebrow at the material, but said nothing. 

"Thank you," John said with a threatening incline of his head, making no move to help the man. 

This earned him a frenzied look and scurry as the man crept away. 

"They don't have any wooden high chairs?" asked Harold, a note of disgust in his voice as he lifted Leila up to place her gingerly into the contraption. 

Leila only clapped her hands, shrieking gleefully. 

"Well, Leila seems to like it," John grinned. "I guess that's all that matters." 

Harold huffed, but said nothing else. 

…

After a few minutes of idle conversation while Harold and John waited, a waiter announced his arrival at their table, a notepad in his shaking hands. 

John looked up at him and noticed him jump, hiding his face behind the pad of paper. "I don't bite," he grinned, relishing the feeling of being feared. "All I'm gonna bite is my food." 

Harold sighed at the attempt at humor. "Ignore him," he advised the waiter. "We'd like the calamari to start, and then I will have the vermicelli with beef and egg."

"Yeah, can I get the rice and curry?" John added. "And also a small wonton." 

The waiter nodded, his hand scribbling fast on the paper, and finished, taking the three menus and dashing back into the kitchen without a single word uttered. 

"Why is everyone here so scared of me?" wondered John. "Leila isn't scared of me."

Harold huffed. "You boast your CIA training everywhere you go, without ever saying a word," he pointed out. "If I were someone else, I would be afraid of you as well. And Leila, might I add, is an exceptionally courageous baby who has become accustomed to your presence."

With that said, Harold stared at John, and Leila, for her part, reached clumsily across her high chair with her chubby arms stretched toward John. The ex-op smiled softly, taking the small offered hands in his own. 

… 

Feeding Leila actual food was somewhat of a fiasco for John, as it had been Harold and not him who had ever given her solid food - as he had said, her favourite was chicken and prunes. 

Leila had few teeth and as a result was not able to respond well to the calamari John fed her in bite-sized pieces. Nine times out of ten, she spat it out. 

Harold watched the two carefully from his bowl of vermicelli, saying and doing nothing. 

"Harold, how did you do this?" John asked incredulously, a hand in his hair as a measure of exasperation. He offered a spoonful of desecrated calamari skins to the baby, who turned her face away. "Come on, baby, for me?" 

"You might try and imagine that the spoon is an airplane," Harold suggested. "I've found it works for me." 

John gave him a skeptical look but made a propelling noise, flying the spoon around in circles. "Leila… here comes the airplane!" 

To his amazement, Leila opened her mouth, allowing him to fit the spoon in. John grinned. "Wow, Finch. That's incredible." 

"Isn't it?" Harold replied. "It works like magic." 

John's grin lingered, and Harold barely supressed a smile as he continued to observe the other man. It was endearing, watching him feed the baby, and it pulled at Harold's heart. It was exactly the kind of sight he had once wanted to behold with Grace. 

That was all over now. The thought made him turn his head back to his food. 

"You okay, Finch?" John murmured immediately. 

"Yes, I'm quite alright," Harold responded, chancing a glance up at the ex-op and finding a feeble smile.  
He didn't want to have to voice the rest of the thought, and John nodded as if acknowledging this. 

He turned back to Leila, gathering up a new spoonful of food for her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo guys, hey! OMG I've been so busy with exams at school I keep forgetting to update this. But honestly, and I'm so sorry to say it, I can't continue it. I recently got a new phone and had to delete my reserve of the story so I don't have any more ideas for how it could go. 
> 
> Just imagine a canon Rinch for now because I was totally going to get around to it :) 
> 
> Thanks for reading, guys, and have a great day/life!


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